


You and Your Pretty Little Face

by bealovelylady



Series: Trying New Things - HQ Series [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Blow Jobs, Boys in Skirts, Clubbing, Crossdressing, Drinking, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Role Reversal, Smut, Tattoos, Tsundere Iwaizumi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 02:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20574587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bealovelylady/pseuds/bealovelylady
Summary: Iwaizumi has a few things he’ll never do:The first is hire someone to work at his shop as a tattoo artist who doesn’t have any tattoos themself, and the second is go dancing.Then along comes Oikawa...





	You and Your Pretty Little Face

Iwaizumi wanted to be anywhere else but here. He had been standing dead silent for three minutes now, still trying to find the punchline to a terrible joke as he stared at the way-to-pretty-to-be-a-man dude. 

“The job is for... a tattoo artist,” he said again slowly like the brunet before him was stupid or hard of hearing. Probably both. He wore a minty tank top that showed off flawless, pale skin, and shorts that were probably highly uncomfortable for a man to wear, but this guy was wearing them like he felt good. Below that was more creamy, unblemished skin, pale. 

The brunet flicked at a strand of hair, annoyed, and Iwaizumi was annoyed too. “You think I can’t possibly be a tattoo artist, right? That’s what you’re thinking.”

Iwaizumi didn’t even bother denying it. The other man sighed heavily and pulled his small bag to his front, one that cut a strap across his chest with a small pouch worn across the back. From it he pulled a small notebook and pen, opened it and set to work right there on the front counter of Iwaizumi’s shop. Five minutes later, he held it up, satisfied look in his eyes over the edge of the journal like he knew he’d already won. Iwaizumi stared in defiant annoyance over the book, before finally dropping his eyes down. 

Well, damn. At least the dude’s arrogance wasn’t misplaced. In the small notebook was a near life-like miniature ink drawing of Iwaizumi’s grumpy face. Still, on the other said, “So, you can draw, but have you ever even held a gun?”

The brunet shrugged, grinned. He put his stuff away and returned his pouch to his back, crossing his non-tattooed arms over his chest before asking simply, “Want me to prove it by tattooing you?”

Iwaizumi shuddered at the thought. He groaned and said, “Show me a portfolio and then we can talk.” And with that he waved the brunet away, turning without seeing if the guy actually left or not.

Like a pretty boy like that would get any kind of respect in his shop...

x

Iwaizumi was annoyed again, but this time for a different reason. He drummed his finger against the bar top, needing alcohol yesterday, but everyone was moving slow, only a few people in the establishment so far. Kuroo, one of his employees, had insisted he needed to get out and get laid, before he died old, bitter, and alone, and the only reason Iwaizumi had agreed was because Kuroo had promised him free booze. 

Well, it was free, but taking way too long to get to him. Kuroo grabbed at his drumming fingers and rolled his eyes. “Dude, chill,” was all he said, but that was easy for a guy who had a gorgeous blond under his other arm. 

It was odd seeing Kuroo in this setting, looking eerily the same, just in worse lighting and less clothes. He wore some kind of horrendous crop top, showing off abs, and sporting a pair of tight jeans. His boyfriend was wearing an equally horrible outfit; a tight black shirt and hot pants, with knee high, buckled pleather platform boots on his feet, but at least he looked decent in the outfit. The tattoo on his thigh looked to be a new addition. Kuroo grinned at Iwaizumi, his stupid lip rings flashing every once in a while as the lights rolled over the room. He’d be tolerable if he wasn’t so damn flashy. 

Kuroo turned to greet someone just as a voice called his name, and soon three more people were crowding Iwaizumi’s back and Kuroo’s space. While Kuroo looked happy about it, Iwaizumi was less than thrilled. He turned to say something about it, but his words fell straight from his open mouth. 

A big greaser-looking guy stood in a leather jacket and grey tee, ripped jeans and boots on, and on his arm was the prettiest person Iwaizumi had ever seen. He had to do a double take, but no, that was definitely a dude. The pretty guy glanced over at Iwaizumi, looked him over for a moment before Kuroo introduced him to his friends. 

Bokuto, Akaashi. Dating. Iwaizumi took in the least amount of information he could as he tried not to stare at Akaashi, in his long black dress, hugging curves accentuated by something or other, his hair short and a little curly and reminding him of...

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“Ohh, fancy meeting you here, Mr. Tattoo Manager.”

Iwaizumi wanted to hurl; he actually had to force himself not to turn around. How did Kuroo know this abomination of a human being? But most importantly, why did this abomination look like _that_?

Oikawa, as he introduced himself, was wearing a shimmery crop top, one shoulder of it sliding down as if he wasn’t already showing enough skin, combined with a high-waisted mini skirt, and thigh high black suede boots. He looked annoyingly... good, but Iwaizumi’s frown only grew deeper and more snarly. Oikawa’s light curls bounced when he moved, and he wore a god-awful amount of make-up in Iwaizumi’s view. It wasn’t that he looked bad, but Iwaizumi would never admit that. He also wouldn’t admit that Oikawa smelled really good. Still, the fact that he had absolutely zero tattoos irritated the living hell out of him. God, he’d even accept a tramp stamp, but what kind of “tattoo artist” didn’t have any ink? Iwaizumi flexed his own inked-up arms as some kind of show of dominance, but Oikawa just grinned and leaned around him to order a drink, way too close. 

When he pulled back two minutes later with a drink in hand, Iwaizumi was ready to throw down. He turned to glare violently at the bartender, but no one paid him any attention. He was drink-less, and ready to go home already. 

“What’d you order?” asked a smooth voice right to his ear, and he didn’t even want to look to see what kind of face Oikawa was making. 

“Just a damn bourbon,” Iwaizumi growled. Oikawa laughed, taped his card against the bar and caught one of the girl’s attention again. 

“Hey, gorgeous, can I get a bourbon on the rocks for this stud here?”

Blue eyes slid to Iwaizumi for a split second, but then they were back on Oikawa, grinning, taking his card with a happy nod. Iwaizumi violently rolled his eyes, annoyed as all hell. Was a pretty guy all it took? He felt like nothing; he flexed his arms a little harder.

Oikawa laughed next to him, sliding into the seat right next to where Iwaizumi stood, barely any space between them. Iwaizumi ignored the milky shoulder that leaned into his line of sight. “God, you reek of overcompensation, hot stuff. You really don’t need to try so hard to be such a big, bad dude.”

Iwaizumi growled at the other, who tossed him a wink as he purred. He turned fully towards Iwaizumi and grinned. “You don’t need to try so hard, trust me.”

Iwaizumi was about to bite back something snarky, but then there was a drink sliding across the bar to him and all of his priorities rearranged. He snapped it up as Oikawa paid, chugging half of it down like it was water. He felt better in a flash, enough to grumble a thanks. He turned to glare at Kuroo, though, but the other was just grinning stupidly at his boyfriend, useless. If it wasn’t for the fact that he’d only come for the free booze, he’d feel a little bad and buy Oikawa’s next drink. Now he didn’t care who paid, as long as he got his liquor. 

Still, when Oikawa pressed up against his arm, he was unprepared. His head jerked down to find long brown lashes bating up at him, pretty brown eyes staring at him. His face rearranged into a frown, but Oikawa silenced him with a, “Wanna dance with me?”

Iwaizumi barked out a laugh. “No way,” he said firmly, sitting his ass down in a barstool to prove his point. Surprisingly, Oikawa let him go with a big shrug, pouting softly as he said, “Your loss, handsome.”

“Go away,” the other grumbled, but he wouldn’t deny that he didn’t enjoy watching the other walk away from him. Really, that skirt was too short, and what kind of underwear did that man have on? Iwaizumi leaned down on his empty hand, swishing his drink in the other as he contemplated it. 

Oikawa ran towards Akaashi and Tsukishima, quickly pulling the blond against him, laughing when he complained. The two tangled legs and gyrated their bodies together, until Kuroo came to pull Tsukishima away from Oikawa and take his turn instead. Oikawa seemed more than happy to switch his horrid dancing to Akaashi instead. And still, Iwaizumi couldn’t find the strength to look away from him. 

“So pretty, isn’t he?” A voice asked from Iwaizumi’s left, and his head jerked to the side, though his eyes tried to stay on Oikawa. In annoyance, he pulled his eyes to the side to see who it was, wondering why his body was doing whatever it wanted now. He didn’t want to sit there and ogle Oikawa all night, but his eyes betrayed him. Next to him stood Kuroo’s friend Bokuto, wearing a cheesy grin and staring out longingly at the dance floor. Heat and anger flared up inside Iwaizumi, thinking this man was assuming things just because he had happened to be staring at Oikawa for about twenty minutes, but before he could open his mouth to deny it, Bokuto said, “Akaashi, I mean.”

Iwaizumi sighed in relief, as Bokuto sank to the chair next to him, laying his head dreamily on Iwaizumi’s shoulder as they both watched the guys dance. Iwaizumi begrudgingly let him stay there for a moment. 

“He’s so gorgeous, pretty as the day I met him. No, he probably gets prettier every day.” Iwaizumi gave a disgusted little frown. People in love were so gross, but he had to admit Bokuto wasn’t really exaggerating. Akaashi was a very pretty man. Just then, Oikawa tossed his head back and laughed, and Iwaizumi clicked his tongue, frowning again. Oikawa, on the other hand... 

“Oh, Oikawa is pretty too!” added Bokuto quickly, misunderstanding Iwaizumi’s reaction. The other turned to him with dead eyes, staring. Bokuto waved his hands in confusion. “I mean, you two seemed to know each other so I assumed you two were-“

“We’re not anything,” Iwaizumi barked loudly. 

“Aww, we’re not?” purred a deep voice so close to Iwaizumi’s ear that he nearly jumped out of his skin. Hands lighted on his thigh and suddenly his personal space smelled like Oikawa. “I thought there was a spark between us, Iwa-chan~”

“Ew,” griped the other as he tried to push Oikawa away, but the man just latched his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck instead. He pressed his lips to Iwaizumi’s ear as he whispered hotly, “I know you’ve had your eyes on me all night, while I was dancing.”

Iwaizumi sputtered out a rebuttal, but his argument was moot, so he shut his lips in defiant silence. Oikawa laughed in his ear, a musical sound, and Iwaizumi slumped down as he accepted Oikawa’s weight against him, enough alcohol in him to not want to fight. Oikawa gave him an appreciative purr as Bokuto stared at the two dubiously. Ah, he probably didn’t believe Iwaizumi’s words at all now. Fuck, he needed another drink. 

He turned his head, mouth open, only to find that Oikawa was already ordering another round of drinks for everyone. Iwaizumi slowly shut his mouth, wondering how the other had known. He silently accepted the drink Oikawa handed him, the other smiling knowingly, and slowly sipped from it. Oikawa turned back with some kind of fruity martini in hand, and he grinned as he drank it slowly down. Iwaizumi tried to pretend he wasn’t mesmerized by the way Oikawa’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He frowned; it almost seemed like alcohol was making him a little softer for Oikawa. Yeah, it was definitely the alcohol, he told himself, all the while knowing two glasses of bourbon wasn’t even half enough to impair his judgement in this way. He shrugged his common sense voice off. 

Oikawa pressed against his side again, talking now to Akaashi, who had silently slipped up and between Bokuto’s legs. Bokuto was twirling little strands of black hair, holding his boyfriend to him around his slim waist, kissing his exposed skin once in a while. Iwaizumi frowned, but stayed silent, just more proof that it was definitely the alcohol... 

“-Iwa-chan has a shop, but he doesn’t believe I can tattoo, so he won’t hire me,” Oikawa was saying with a pout, his voice too loud. Iwaizumi whipped his head to the other man, glaring up at him. Oikawa grinned, brown eyes dancing with delight as he stared back at Iwaizumi. 

“Stop calling me Iwa-chan,” Iwaizumi said, meaning to say a lot more, but now Bokuto was slapping him across the back. 

“Bro, Oikawa’s great! Just hire him! You probably need a pretty face in that shop if Kuroo works there,” he said with a barking laugh. Well, he wasn’t wrong there. His own mug was even less pretty than Kuroo’s. But Oikawa didn’t belong there at all... 

“I can always show you my work first hand,” Oikawa reminded Iwaizumi with a purr as his hand curled into the open v-neck of his shirt. Iwaizumi glanced down at the hand on his chest, decided to let it be, looking back up at Oikawa. 

“I’m not letting you anywhere near my body with a tattoo gun.”

“Iwa-chan~!” the other pouted. 

Iwaizumi just took another sip of his drink, quietly finishing off his glass as Oikawa whined at him. He wondered how he could shut Oikawa up. 

“Bokuto, come dance with me,” a soft, sweet voice said to Iwaizumi’s right, and two heads turned to watch the other two cooing at each other. 

Bokuto nodded, grinning. “Of course, baby doll, anything for you.”

Iwaizumi pulled a face as they skipped away. In his ear, Oikawa laughed softly. Iwaizumi turned to him and asked, “Are they always that gross?”

Oikawa slapped Iwaizumi’s chest and frowned down at him, scolding him. “They’re adorable together; you’re just mad cause you’re angry and alone.”

Iwaizumi opened his mouth, so offended, but again, he had no counter-argument, so he shut his lips with a decisive frown. Oikawa nodded like he had known it all along. 

“Fuck off,” Iwaizumi growled lowly, annoyed. He tried to turn away, but a hand caught his own and suddenly, with more force than Oikawa looked capable of wielding, the man had him up on his feet and was dragging him to the dance floor. 

“If you won’t let me work in your shop, the least you can do is let me dance with you,” Oikawa murmured as he pulled Iwaizumi to his body. Hands locked around his neck and Iwaizumi was forced to stand stiffly as Oikawa began to move against him. 

Iwaizumi turned his head away, pretending like none of this affected him, until Oikawa sighed wearily and moved to pull Iwaizumi’s hands to hold his hips. Dark olive green eyes slipped upwards to Oikawa’s, and he tried his normal frown, but somehow it felt less impactful as Oikawa smiled down at him. Oh, that was... annoying... Iwaizumi’s lids lowered a little as he stared up at Oikawa, alcohol beginning to course through his veins. 

Now that Iwaizumi’s hands were on him and his eyes watching the other, Oikawa began to move again. He rolled his hips this way and that, against Iwaizumi and side to side, hands coming to rest on Iwaizumi’s thick chest. Oikawa purred at the man appreciatively, dancing like it was just the two of them. And Iwaizumi found he had lost the ability completely to look away from the other, staring down at his body and up at his gorgeous face, so close, lashes so long, hair so... soft. 

Oikawa pressed closer and closer to Iwaizumi, breathing hot air over flushed cheeks, hands feeling out the beat of Iwaizumi’s heart under his skin. It was getting hot between them, but neither backed away to let air flow. The music pounded on, songs melding together until it was just background music to keep Oikawa moving against him. 

“Iwa-chan, you’re so pretty when you smile,” Oikawa whispered sweetly to him. Iwaizumi checked his face; when had he started smiling? He tried to frown, but it felt unnatural. 

“What the fuck did you put in my drink?” he grumbled to the brunet under his hands. He gripped those hips tighter, but Oikawa just smiled, tilting his head to nuzzle his nose to Iwaizumi’s cheek. 

“Nothing, dearest,” he purred, and Iwaizumi let it go, his face relaxing again now that Oikawa wasn’t looking. Smiling once in a while felt nice... 

“Want another drink?” Oikawa asked after a while, pulling back and nodding at the bar. Iwaizumi stared in shock when he realized the rest of their group was standing there watching them. When had they left the dance floor, and why were they ogling Iwaizumi and Oikawa like it was the most precious sight they’d ever seen? Iwaizumi jerked away from Oikawa and he could almost hear Kuroo’s disappointed whine of, “Aww!”

He frowned violently at the man as he stalked back to the bar. “You owe me some drinks,” he growled, and Kuroo nodded quickly. 

“Don’t tell me you only know how to enjoy yourself when you’re drunk,” the bedhead mumbled under his breath. Iwaizumi flared red as those around them laughed. He turned his face away, but there was Oikawa next to him, smiling that sickly-sweet, knowing smile. 

“Iwa-chan is just a big grumpy baby, but I’ll get him softened like butter in no time.”

“Ew,” Iwaizumi said with a violent, confused frown. “What the fuck is wrong with you, anyways?”

But the rest of his words were swallowed up by Oikawa’s lips. The man had grabbed his jaw and forced a wet kiss on him, but the instant their lips met, Iwaizumi forgot everything, melted. He returned the kiss as forcefully and eagerly as Oikawa had given it. A rough hand pulled Oikawa to his chest and another rucked up into his hair. The sober part of his mind wondered what he was doing, but most of the rest of his mind and body was screaming out in pure excitement. Fuck, Oikawa was soft and so sweet. He was a pain in the ass, but damn if he wasn’t pretty enough to make up for it. Tongues swirled together and Iwaizumi didn’t even think of pulling away until his ears caught on the sound of distant hooting and hollering. A cold drink pressed to his hot cheek and Iwaizumi snapped away, ignoring Oikawa suddenly like he wasn’t there at all. He glared at Kuroo, at the drink in his hand. 

“Get a room,” the bedhead laughed, as Bokuto cheered, “You two are perfect together!”

Iwaizumi grabbed the drink from Kuroo’s hand, downed it like it was his only lifeblood. He smacked his glass back down and whirled on Oikawa when the man slid a hand around his arm. Fuck, all he could think about was Oikawa’s lips. He walked with Oikawa this time when the man pulled him back towards the dance floor, pulled Oikawa deeper into the crowd until he couldn’t see their friends at the bar and they couldn’t see the two of them. 

“Don’t say a fucking word,” Iwaizumi warned him as he fisted the back of Oikawa’s hair and pulled him back down into a deep kiss. Oikawa moaned softly against him, slid hands around his neck and to his back, pressed closer. Iwaizumi grabbed a handful of Oikawa’s hip, pulling the man flush against him, rolling his own hips as a silent message for Oikawa to move. To dance on him again. He wasted no time, soon gyrating once again against Iwaizumi’s hard body. Their kiss grew sloppier and more heated, until Iwaizumi couldn’t tell where his mouth and tongue ended and Oikawa’s began. Fuck, he hadn’t meant to get involved with anyone tonight, but Oikawa looked downright illegal in the clothes he wore and that damn pristine skin. How was he so pure white and soft? Every inch of skin that Iwaizumi touched was softer than a baby’s bottom, and the sounds Oikawa made only stirred him up more. They were both hard now, grinding together like there was no tomorrow. 

Oikawa pulled away with a wet smack, lips puffy and rosy, eyes shimmering. “Fuck, Iwa-chan, if I’d known you could kiss like that I’d have done it days ago.”

Iwaizumi growled at him, though it was more playful than anything now. Oikawa chuckled happily, his eyes going hooded as his laugh slipped to a seductive purr. He flipped around and suddenly something obscenely soft and cushioned ground against Iwaizumi’s hot crotch. Oikawa’s rear end was illegal too, but Iwaizumi just grabbed his hips with two hands and pulled him closer, Oikawa arching his back to grab around Iwaizumi’s neck again, giving the man his neck to lip and suck at. The unrestrained sounds Oikawa rained down in encouragement were wearing at Iwaizumi’s defenses. He growled against Oikawa’s neck, the last of his sanity snapping. 

“Fuck, I want to take you home and pound you into the mattress.”

Oikawa moaned way too loud at that, grinding hard against Iwaizumi’s erection. “Do it,” he mewled. “Fuck me up.”

Iwaizumi debated for a split second how to slip the man past their friends without notice, before realizing he was too drunk to care, too horny to think straight. Then Oikawa gripped his hand, turned to whisper urgently to his ear, “Are you serious about that, Iwa-chan?”

Fuck yes, he was dead serious. He nodded to Oikawa, eyes ablaze and his whole body burning with lusty desire. Oikawa sighed in relief, surprising Iwaizumi, but before he could speak, he was being dragged out a back door and into an alley. 

“Call an Uber,” Oikawa told him as he pulled the man’s phone from his pocket, pressing it into Iwaizumi’s hands as he caged the man against the wall, leaning down for more kisses. 

Iwaizumi tried for a few seconds to actually do that, until he realized there was no way with Oikawa right in his face. He grunted and tugged at soft hair, and Oikawa obediently moved down to kiss at Iwaizumi’s neck. Somehow, the other managed to call a car, and then he grabbed at Oikawa’s waist, pulled the man to him to grind against him, calling his lips back up to his own. A tongue twisted inside his mouth and around his own and Iwaizumi’s head went light with pleasant feelings. He didn’t think he’d ever been so hard up for anyone before; he also hadn’t given anyone else the chance to try. It was still definitely the alcohol, and he knew he’d regret it in the morning, but fuck, Oikawa felt so right against him right now. 

His phone dinged almost too soon, and Oikawa was dragging Iwaizumi out to the street, out into the waiting Uber. 

“We’ll give a good tip,” he told the driver as he clambered into Iwaizumi’s lap, grabbing his face and lifting him into another lewd kiss, lips dragging wet over each other in desperation. Iwaizumi definitely was drunk if he wasn’t even worried about how illegal and unsafe this was. The driver only said something about keeping his car clean as he pulled out into traffic. The world was upside down today. 

“Here,” barked Oikawa after a while, pulling away just long enough to alert the driver to pull over, and before the car was even fully stopped, Oikawa had the door open and was yanking Iwaizumi out. He somehow got the man’s wallet in his hands, just as easily as with his phone earlier, and blearily Iwaizumi could tell that Oikawa was using his credit card to pay for a room. The hotel around them looked nice, but not unaffordable, so Iwaizumi let it go. He currently had his face stuffed in Oikawa’s neck and could care less. He wanted to devour the man, who smelled so sweet and was so damn good at kissing. 

They ran to an elevator, mashing buttons in their angst, rushing into the car when it came, Oikawa yelping out their floor number to the unfortunate passenger. And then Oikawa was on him again and Iwaizumi groaned with desire. The car stopped and they spilled out of open doors, Iwaizumi still decent enough to pull away, apologize and thank the other passenger, before Oikawa hurtled him down the hall. Locks chimed and the door opened, and the two spilled into a dark hotel room, lips searching for each other in darkness. It was sloppy and messy, but fuck, Iwaizumi was so horny. 

In the dark, clothes were shed; they walked as they kissed and stripped, stumbling and tripping until Iwaizumi’s hand slapped against the light switch further inside. Two bed lamps glowed to life, filling the room with soft lighting, making the skin that Oikawa had bared look irresistible. Iwaizumi sank his lips to it, lipping and sucking at Oikawa’s pale collar bones. They fell down in a mess of limbs to the bed, Oikawa working off Iwaizumi’s boxer briefs, and then there was nothing left between them. 

Iwaizumi’s head was buzzing, and he didn’t even have the strength to fight it when Oikawa flipped him over with some kind of ungodly strength, and suddenly there were slippery fingers at his ass hole. He was about to yell and protest loudly when a wet, hot mouth slipped over his swaying erection. The air punched out of Iwaizumi’s lungs, and then Oikawa crooked his fingers. Silent curses fled the other man’s lips. Oh, he should have known Oikawa would be the death of him. Everything was moving so fast and Iwaizumi barely had time to think, to process Oikawa prepping him like this. He knew what it meant, and any other day he’d have hell-nope’d so soon, but something about Oikawa’s hot mouth on his cock and those too-skillful fingers in his ass, plus the alcohol roaring through his veins made this seem perfectly reasonable. 

When Oikawa slipped inside him with a hard and hot cock, he could barely even complain mentally. He shut his eyes and lost himself to the pleasure, sinking into the bed as Oikawa sank atop him, holding his legs wide apart as he gave a wanton moan. 

“Fuck... you...” hushed Iwaizumi even as a moan slipped out with it, and Oikawa gave a rough laugh. 

“Fuck, baby,” the other said, leaning down. When his lips found Iwaizumi’s, the dark haired male let Oikawa kiss him. He reached up and circled heavy arms around Oikawa’s neck; he was resigned, because fuck, Oikawa was really good at it. He hadn’t ever thought that there was a particular skill to fucking, but Oikawa had it down pat. Iwaizumi’s ears rung and he rose and rose until his body broke and he shuddered through a broken cry and a heavy orgasm, cock untouched since they’d started. Oikawa breathed over sweaty skin as he came inside the condom he’d thankfully used, lipping at Iwaizumi’s neck, scraping teeth against it like he needed the blood pumping through the other man’s veins. 

“Ohhh, yes,” he shivered out as he slipped away and to the bed. Dead tired and suddenly feeling his drunkenness, Iwaizumi fell dead asleep moments later. He didn’t even hear Oikawa shuffle around, shower, sweetly tuck him in. 

The morning would bring a rude awakening for Iwaizumi. 

x

The piercing headache woke him up before anything else did, and Iwaizumi lay stiff and sore for a good half hour, trying to place himself. He felt like he’d pulled a back muscle, and he even tried to keep his breathing slow and steady. He barely even noticed there was anyone else in the bed for that whole half hour; he was just trying to figure out where the fuck he even was and how he’d strained his back. 

Finally he rolled his head over, and with it came the loudest curse. He stared in disbelief at the peaceful man sleeping next to him, drooling a little on his pillow, hair unfairly fluffy, so pretty- No! 

Then came the even worse revelation that it wasn’t his back that was in pain; he hadn’t pulled anything. Oikawa was the one who’d pulled something, and that was a fast one on him. 

“Oh, fuck you, Oikawa. Think you’ll get a job now? No fucking way- fuck!” He tried to get out of bed, but his whole lower half screamed in protest. Something warm swam up in Iwaizumi’s gut, feelings leftover from last night, and he shoved them away. No, no, this could not be real. 

Oikawa had fucked him, and he’d fucking moaned and cum like a bitch from his ass. Oikawa hadn’t even touched his cock. And the worst part of all was that Iwaizumi would consider this... a good night. Sure, he wanted to deny it, and it made his whole body shudder in disgust, but that little voice in his head kept whispering, “You know you fucking loved it”, and he couldn’t even say it wasn’t true. 

The next time he turned his head, Oikawa was awake, quietly watching him. He slowly sat up, almost afraid now, such a remarkable change from last night. 

“Fuck you,” Iwaizumi hushed. He’d thought too long, and now he was remembering a lot of feelings from last night, feelings that made him realize he hadn’t been as drunk as he’d hoped, convinced himself he was. He wanted to say it was all the alcohol, but looking at Oikawa now, he couldn’t. “Really, fuck you. I’m a top, and you just-“ _ruined me._

“Iwaizumi...” Oikawa whispered carefully, but Iwaizumi didn’t have any patience for that shit. 

“Fuck you, Oikawa. Come here.” He grabbed at an arm and yanked Oikawa down to him, to his lips. It was the same as last night; the same lips, the same feelings. Oikawa seemed to surge with confidence, returning the kiss with violent enthusiasm. Hands slid over Iwaizumi’s bare chest. 

“I swear next time you can fuck me,” Oikawa hushed against wet lips, kissing Iwaizumi deeper. 

With a weary sigh, Iwaizumi pulled away. “Never mind that,” he whispered under his breath, turning away. It’s not like it was all bad. Oikawa was really good, as evidenced by how sore Iwaizumi was now. 

With a gasp and a sigh of relief, Oikawa fell against Iwaizumi’s chest. He laughed, hugged Iwaizumi. They shared a few more sweet kisses, Iwaizumi begrudgingly so. 

The Oikawa sat up and giggled.

“So, when do I get to tattoo you?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Iwaizumi groaned. “You’ve got the job, okay?”

Oikawa shrieked in happiness, diving down to hug Iwaizumi. The other groaned in displeasure. 

“I have to keep you close to keep an eye on you and keep you out of trouble,” he grumbled under his breath. 

But Oikawa responded with, “I’ve loved you for so long.” Another giggle. “I’m glad you’re starting to feel the same way too.”

Iwaizumi jerked to respond vehemently, but a quick kiss to his jaw stopped him, and he froze completely as Oikawa sang, “Ha~ji~me~”

“Oh, fuck you,” grumbled Iwaizumi, but he pulled Oikawa on top of him again and once more claimed his lips, gripping a hand into his ridiculously soft, pretty hair. 

Really, fuck Oikawa and his pretty little face. 

Now Iwaizumi was stuck with the man, and he found he didn’t mind as much as he should.

**Author's Note:**

> And that’s it! Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Let me know if you have any more ideas for HQ fics, or check out my previous ones!
> 
> Also, Iwaizumi totally gets a few new tattoos added to his body 😘


End file.
